


Decadence in a syringe

by ClayJackson



Category: Original Work
Genre: Decadent Queer bullshit, Gen, Needles, Projection fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClayJackson/pseuds/ClayJackson
Summary: The lights are dim. You’re sitting in the bedroom of a doctor who you’ve just recently met while on one of your…excursions. The sheets are soft, silky; less expensive than your own, but still of good quality.





	Decadence in a syringe

**Author's Note:**

> Heck if I know what this was I was just trying to come up with a way to make doing my T shot easier and got this idea and liked it so uuuuh here it is so I can have it saved somewhere.

The lights are dim. You’re sitting in the bedroom of a doctor who you’ve just recently met while on one of your…excursions. The sheets are soft, silky; less expensive than your own, but still of good quality. You’ve been stripped down to your stockings an undershirt, face flushed, hair disheveled, and pupils blow wide with arousal and excitement.

The doctor kneels between your legs, all neat and put together. He hasn’t removed anything besides his over coat. In on hand he holds a needle, the other resting on your bare thigh and tracing slow, sensual circles into your skin with his delicate thumb. “Are you ready?” he says, looking up at you with those beautiful, decadent brown eyes. You nod, scandalous excitement twisting in your stomach. What would people think if they discovered you taking pleasure in such debauchery?

Your thoughts are quickly pulled back to the present when you feel a sharp pain and look to see the needle being pressed into your skin. You breathe in and look back up at him, eyes half lidded as the needle slips further into the tissue. He’s focused, guiding the sharp metal unto the muscle of your thigh before resting a thumb on the plunger.

He presses down, pushing the thick liquid inside under your skin. You swear you can feel it, sending a shiver through your body as you breathe through the sensation. You watch his hands (warm, soft, gorgeous) as the plunger sinks into the syringe, eventually bottoming out once it is empty.

He pulls it out slowly, the skin of your thigh clinging to it as he does so. When the needle breaks free, there’s a small dribble as the thick stuff leaks from the injection, a drop rolling down your inner thigh and making you twitch. He grabs some gauze, presses it over the injury, and looks up at you, his own pupils wide now.

You can’t help yourself as the impulse hits you to reach out and grab his face, dragging him up into a delicious kiss. He keeps his hand on your thigh, the pressure firm and grounding as your head feels like it’s floating.

You didn’t care what people would think if they found your secret.


End file.
